


Murder By Monotreme

by Kantayra



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: Crack, Deathfic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-05
Updated: 2007-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-19 02:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why You Absolutely Do <i>Not</i> Sit On Platypi In The Outback: A Case Study.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murder By Monotreme

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for marishna's [Supernatural Death!Ficathon](http://marishna.livejournal.com/318553.html). I chose 'death by platypus envenomation.' Just in case there was _any_ doubt in your mind whether this was crack!fic. And, yes, I do know that platypi aren't usually fatal, but you'll have to suspend a bit of disbelief for this high-quality literary work. I suspect that Jared and Jensen both, coincidentally, are overly sensitive to platypus venom. *looks around shiftily* Hey, it's _possible_!

This was all totally Rosenbaum’s fault. Rosenbaum, and his stupid trips to Costa Rica. That was where they had gotten the dumb idea to wander out in the wilderness on some kind of environmental mission in the first place. Fucking Rosenbaum.

It was also Jared’s fault since he was the one who had picked out the location, but since Jared was dying right along beside him, Jensen wasn’t conserving his last few breaths to bring an unholy curse down upon Jared’s very name. That would just be a waste of cursing energy. And it was quite possible that he’d been doing Supernatural _way_ too long, if he was actually trying this shit out for real.

“Okay,” Jared wheezed next to him. The two of them had collapsed together in the shade of a large rock when it had hurt too much to walk any further. “Maybe this trip to Australia?” Wheeze. “Wasn’t the best idea.”

“Next time, do you think you can pick a continent where the _mammals_ aren’t poisonous?” Jensen wheezed too, just for good measure.

“The guide,” wheeze, “said that deaths were _exceedingly_ rare.” Double wheeze.

“The guide can kiss my ass.”

“Not,” wheeze, “while I’m here.”

“You’re going to kiss my platypus envenomated ass?” Jensen retorted skeptically. And wheezed.

“My ass is just as platypus envenomated,” Jared retorted and collapsed, and that was actually quite literal in Jared’s case, so Jensen didn’t argue. Jared’s face ended up in the general vicinity of Jensen’s ass, but Jensen wasn’t quite sure if Jared was kissing it or not because the pain was kind of getting to him.

Just in case, he fell over too, so that the two of them were lying on the ground, curled up together. “We shouldn’t have sent the guides away,” Jensen finally concluded.

“ _You_ were the one who wanted to ‘bareback in the outback’.” Jensen knew Jared was glaring right into his ass, even though Jensen couldn’t see his face from this angle. He could _feel_ the glare though, the annoyance radiating out from Jared.

Jensen wheezed. Okay, so maybe it was kind of his fault too.

“Hey,” Jared laugh/wheezed. “Can you imagine the tabloids when they find us?”

“You’re the one with your face in my ass, dude.”

“ ‘How on earth could Jensen have been such a dumbass to get spurred by the same fucking platypus that had just lethally envenomated his costar only instants before?’ It’ll be on the cover of every magazine for weeks.” Wheeze.

“Hey! Those things have _two_ venomous spurs, you know,” Jensen defended himself. “Couldn’t you have found a less humiliating way to die? Like, sat on a poisonous _snake_ instead?”

“At least _I_ didn’t try to pick the thing up,” Jared retorted.

“It had a spur stuck in your ass!” Jensen countered. And wheezed more.

“What, you were jealous of a _platypus_?”

Jensen muttered something under his breath that might have been a “maybe,” not that he’d admit to it with his laugh dying breath. Which this pretty much was.

“You just didn’t want to live in a world without me,” Jared countered. “Admit it.”

Jensen just wheezed silently for a few minutes. And then, hesitantly, because it was really stupid to argue about this shit now, “Okay, I admit it.”

Jared kicked him in the shoulder. “Jerk.”

“Jerk? You think I’m crazy enough to headline solo? The hours are crazy enough as it is. I’d be dead in two weeks anyway with that shooting schedule.”

Jared grunted and buried his face in Jensen’s ass. All in all, Jensen thought it wasn’t a bad way to die. Jared seemed to concur. “At least my final view’s pretty…”

Jensen snorted and shifted sullenly. Jared just curled closer and wheezed more.

“We should focus our energy on haunting Rosenbaum’s ass,” Jensen finally concluded.

“Oh? Why?”

“Because this is all his fault.”

A pause and several thoughtful wheezes. “Okay, yeah. I can see that. Does death by platypus count as a violent death?”

“Man, my spirit is already severely pissed off. This is so fucking embarrassing.”

“All right, then. But I’m not haunting his ass. Too high traffic.”

“His trailer?”

“That works. We can use his XBox then, when we’re bored.”

“Right.”

The only sound for a while was the chirping of frogs and the slowly weakening wheezes.

“Jared?” Jensen finally found the strength to speak again, even though he could feel he was failing fast.

“Yeah?” Jared sounded just as weak, although maybe that was because his voice was muffled by Jensen’s jeans.

“It sucks about our show, dude.”

Jared wheezed again. “Yeah, well now that they’ve made Alona a regular, it’s probably just as well.”

Jensen shuddered in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that a little furry animal that looked like a beaver and a duck strapped together had just stuck a venomous spur into his gut.

“They probably would’ve made you make out with her,” Jared concluded, his voice a mere murmur now.

“Still don’t see why I couldn’t make out with you…”

“You did. Every time the director called ‘cut’.”

“Oh, right.” A smile spread across Jensen’s face, despite the pain. “Do you think we’ll be able to do that in heaven?”

“It’s heaven. We can do anything we want.”

“Even the thing with the bananas and the mai tais?”

“ _Especially_ the thing with the bananas and the mai tais.”

“Good.” The smile on Jensen’s face grew. He could hardly feel the pain at all now. The world was turning fuzzy and warm and soft. “I love you, man,” he managed four last words.

“Love you too.”

Another minute of wheezing, and then silence.

In the stream twenty feet away, the traumatized platypus finally shuffled off of its log and dove into the water once more to nuzzle about on the mud bottom for shrimp, a mischievous and somewhat malevolent gleam in its eye. It was a good life, at least until the news teams and the paramedics arrived.


End file.
